Life in the Carnival of Rust
by A savvy pirate
Summary: John is lost after Sherlock "dies", but he manages to find a kindred spirit in Greg Lestrade through music and their longing for peace. Before long, neither can imagine life without the other.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I have been ridiculously in love with the Sherlock series ever since I started watching it two weeks ago. Cannot wait for season four. But the couple I keep shipping, no matter what is Johnstrade. Martin Freeman and Rupert Graves are very good-looking and while I understand why people ship Watson and Sherlock I simply can't drag myself away from John and Greg. So, this fic will take place 6 weeks after The Reichenbach Fall and John is trying to get on with life at Baker Street after Sherlock "dies." Eventually he'll find solace with Greg in ways he never thought would be possible. Hope you enjoy. Sorry for rambling. :)

John Watson had been sitting, staring at the all-too familiar fireplace in the apartment he had called home for two years. The name 221B Baker Street was so firmly etched into his mind, that it seemed so unnatural to imagine him anywhere else. Just like the name Sherlock Holmes felt empty and dull without the man himself nearby, insulting him at every interval. Being difficult yet brilliant at the same time, deducing someone the second they walked into a room and all the while maintaining a certain warmth that always brought a smile to John's face. Now that man was gone and the good doctor couldn't think of any way he might continue Sherlock's legacy. Mycroft offered a half-sincere apology that almost brought John to the precipice of decking the older brother in an absolute rage! The only three people who seemed to truly care other than himself were Mrs Hudson, Molly and Greg, who each had very different coping mechanisms.

The kind Mrs Hudson (who constantly assumed John and Sherlock were involved) got through each day minding the shop and giving it extra bouts of cleaning that started to nauseatingly make it smell 'too clean', so John offered to help out here and there when she began to work herself too hard. Molly never kept in contact after The Fall, presumably due to too many painful memories that would remind her of Sherlock and John was one of them, so she only shared a tear-filled hug with him after the funeral and apart from one or two phone calls, she had cut contact with him completely. Greg however had done something he never thought he'd be capable of, quitting Detective Inspector. After everything that occurred with Sherlock, who was more or less a friend to him, Greg was done with being a detective and anything to do with the police. John had seen him a few days after that in the nearby supermarket, but decided to just go home without making himself known.

Looking out the window, John observed a young man walk happily up to the front door of Baker Street with letters in his hand, disappear for several seconds and reappear walking down the street with fewer letters than before. Curious, John got up from his comfortable chair and checked the time on his laptop. It read 10:04 P.M. "Wow!" John thought. "Is it that late? Who'd be delivering letters at this hour?" He frowned uncertainly which quickly turned to suspicion, a hazard from time in Afghanistan and Sherlock having many enemies. After chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully he turned back to the time on the bright computer that lit up half the apartment in artificial light. The clock now read 10:14. "I need to stop thinking about these things too much. Come on, John! Just go to the door." After that brief talk to psych himself up, John proceeded down the stairs to the front door.

A small amount of light emptied itself into the narrow hallway, revealing one white letter on the new purple embroidered carpet. Picking it up delicately, John found that it looked more like a birthday card, with a fancy splash of colour on the front. Once he was back in the apartment, he observed the very colourful lettering. "Want real music? Come to the new nightclub at 34 Baker Street. No Dubstep, Hip-hop or Rap. Open from 5 P.M. to midnight. We hope you enjoy." John couldn't help but grin at the idea of going to a nightclub, with proper music and maybe some fun. "It couldn't hurt, could it? It closes in two hours, so at the very least I might just poke my head in and see what it's like." He lightly placed the card on the table, and put a clean shirt on, with some blue jeans. Summer had been very warm this year. Taking the steps two at a time he called to the back of the complex. "Mrs Hudson, I'll be back in a couple hours! Just going for a walk!"

The night air held a very crisp, comfortable atmosphere that made John sigh happily, all thoughts of Sherlock temporarily erased in the magic of the moment. After walking for awhile, he found the address. It was very quaint with a very faint neon sign outside and a red door leading to the inside. John quietly entered the club and after walking down a couple of steps he could hear the gentle plucking coming from a guitar nearby. When he found the main room, John looked around, surprised by the club's simplicity and charm. To the left of the entrance there was a small lounge area with a few people talking and very relaxed. In the middle was a lovely oak-laden bar stocked with a considerable amount of alcohol and a stocky guy in a muscle shirt that showed off his impressive biceps. And to the right, three tables facing a small stage with a chair, where a guy was experimentally tuning a gorgeous patterned guitar.

John made his way to the bar and ordered a beer from the handsome bartender, who gave it to him with a sincere smile. Looking over at the stage, he saw someone else saunter up to take the guitar and pull the strap on, ready to play. The man was silhouetted in shadow while getting himself into position to play, but John saw him gesture to someone and then a spotlight bathed him in a bright glow, highlighting all his features. Silver hair, toned arms and the unmistakable face of former Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade. John stared in shock, spellbound by how casual and relaxed the other man looked. He didn't expect to be even more surprised, but then Greg started to confidently strum the chords and opened his mouth to sing. When he began, John felt like he was going to melt, no thoughts going through his head apart from this spine-tingling angelic voice that threatened to steal his mind away.


	2. Chapter 2

**My light in the dark.**

John had never felt the sensation of paralysis before. Not while under fire in Afghanistan, certainly never in a dangerous situation. But listening to Greg's haunting, raw voice alongside the gentle, never-faltering slide of his fingers over the guitar strings rendered John unable to move. He worried that everytime his eyes blinked, Greg and this beautiful melody would disappear, leaving the former soldier entrenched in darkness. The lyrics to the song held a sense of mystery and underlying sadness, but also gave a unique peace which sent shivers up John's spine and made his skin break out in goosebumps! "Come feed the rain, cos' i'm thirsty for your love, dancing underneath the skies of lust. Yeah, feed the rain! Cos' without your love my life ain't nothing but this Carnival of Rust."

John placed his elbow comfortably on the oaken bar with his cheek cupped by his left hand. He now realized that his face was well over due for a shave, rubbing the stubble on his chin. Sighing contentedly John was shocked when he could no longer hear Greg's mellow voice or guitar, but it was instead replaced by light clapping from the small amount of people who had been listening, himself now included. Greg carefully stepped away from the stage and slung the guitar over his back, so now there was only the strap showing across his black t-shirt. He walked towards the barkeep who briefly left the bar and handed the other man some money. Greg looked down at the small amount but gave a small smile to the barkeep. John watched curiously. He felt like he was observing something extremely private. Then Greg's eyes wandered to the bar and noticed John for the first time, shock lighting up his features before breaking into a massive grin. "John!" he yelled happily. The former soldier once again felt frozen, but not out of fear. So, he merely smiled back while Greg made his way to the bar with a spring in his step John had never observed before.

"Wow!" John thought. "He is really handsome." He shook his head slightly. The thought of being with a man had crossed John's mind before, especially in the army. But he had never wanted to act on them. For one thing, it would be very unprofessional. Thoughts like that had been heavily buried until John and Greg were in the same room together. Once again, John didn't do anything out of fear of rejection and because they were only ever truly around each other due to Sherlock. Yet now that Greg was no longer a detective and Sherlock was gone, perhaps John could give it a go. He was unsure though, whether Greg was even interested in other men. He'd have to go about this carefully.

Greg ordered a beer and sat next to John nonchalantly. "What brings you here, John? We only opened last week." Greg's voice appeared to be slightly strained after his singing beforehand. He quickly cleared his throat and took a swig from his cup waiting for John's reply. He shrugged. "Some guy carrying invitations down the street. I saw where the place was and I felt like seeing what it's all about." Greg nodded. "That's Ron. He thought we should branch out around the neighbourhood. Have more people know about the club." He gave John's knee a light tap. "Looks like it could work if you're here." Greg flashed John a big smile. John had found himself unconsciously rubbing his knee where Greg touched it, wishing the other man would do it again. Greg suddenly appeared self-conscious, licking his lips nervously. "So, was I okay? When I sang earlier?" John stared at Greg, shocked. How could this man not know how magical his voice and guitar playing sounded? Before John could answer, the bartender yelled out, "Everyone! We close in 5 minutes." John felt greatly disappointed, until Greg leaned in close and asked him quietly, "I live above this place now. We can continue chatting upstairs if you like?" John simply nodded and Greg chuckled warmly. "Good. Follow me outside." John followed close behind, trying to calm his nerves.

Author's note: Hope everyone liked this chapter. The lyrics I used are from Carnival of Rust by Poets of the Fall.


	3. Chapter 3

No more counting dollars. We'll be counting stars.

John found himself being confidently led out a back door of the club, the 'emergency exit' Greg called it sarcastically. Once outside, the wind pleasantly licked at John's skin, making him shudder happily. Greg however misinterpreted John's shudder as him being chilled and quickly acted, taking his well-fitted black shirt off and handing it to John, who appeared very startled by this. John nervously darted his tongue across his suddenly dry lips, easily able to make out Greg's gorgeously toned frame in the moonlight from above. A tad smooth around the middle, but that just made him look even more appealing. Clearing his throat, John spoke as clearly and articulately as he could. "Erm, what are you doing, Greg? Are you giving me a strip tease or do you just feel like showing off?" The other man now seemed incredibly confused. "No, I... thought you were cold. You started shivering so I wanted to make sure you were warm, mate." John quickly regained his composure. "Oh. Ummm, thanks Greg but i'm fine. The wind's actually lovely tonight." John couldn't forget the amazingly concerned and protective gaze in Greg's eyes. They barely knew each other that well, but John could certainly feel a deep connection between them. With Greg still holding his shirt, they went up a well-worn green painted straight staircase that eventually led to a simple grey stone balcony with two wooden chairs and a brown coffee table. Greg reached into his jeans and brought out a single silver key. After opening the door, he signalled John inside with a smile before closing off the outside world so it seemed they were the only two people in existence.

Stepping inside, John felt slightly oppressed by the sudden blackness that enveloped him until Greg shut the door and hit three switches which instantly doused the room in a very earthy, cozy light. Putting his guitar down carefully in a black zip-up bag, Greg strode in front of John still shirtless, and beckoned him to follow. To the right of the front door was a small, yet manageable kitchen with a few dishes in the sink, ready to be washed. Greg walked to the spotless fridge and picked out a couple of beers, one of which he handed to John with a smile. John followed Greg close behind into the remarkably warm lounge room and motioned towards the couch respectfully. Greg just smiled again and nodded. After a minute in silence, John began to notice he was sweating heavily. This apartment was hot! Greg spoke up. "Sorry about the heat. One of many reasons why i'm not putting my shirt back on. Sometimes it's so hot, I can't actually bring myself to wear anything!" At this John coughed a little and cast a not so very discreet glance at the couch, then back at Greg who chuckled. "Don't worry, John. My arse never touches where you're sitting." It was John's turn to chuckle this time.

John was thoroughly enjoying his time with Greg. And the former Detective Inspector appeared very relaxed in John's company. They'd each shared pieces from one another's lives, including upbringing, John's time in Afghanistan, how Greg became DI. And why he quit. "After Sherlock, you know I... tried to keep working and stay focused on the job, but there was just too much going on for me. Kathryn ran off with another guy, who was a P.E. teacher, just like Sherlock said. I lost the apartment and pretty much everything. Then I was coming to check up on you, and Mrs Hudson, but I found this place. They said if I could play guitar and bring some money in, I'd be more than welcome here. I'm no Eric Clapton, but I know I can at least carry a tune." He suddenly noticed the other man seemed distracted by something. "Oh, bloody hell! John, i'm so sorry! I know Sherlock was your best mate and here I am bringing him up again. If there's anything I can do for you, please tell me." John carefully placed his beer on the glass table before turning toward Greg, who had that same concerned protective look directed his way again. John realized how stupid he was for saying this, but he didn't care. "I... Greg, can I please just hug you?" Greg's eyes shone with a mix of surprise and also tenderness. He sat up straight and invitingly held his arms open.

John wasted no time grabbing Greg and holding him close, feeling his warm back and listening to each other's even breathing. Greg soothingly rubbed circles on John's back to let him know he was safe. Once they finally broke apart, John had tears that were threatening to fall, but resolved to keep them back. Greg looked out the front window and saw it had begun to rain heavily, the sound absolutely beautiful. John noticed this too. "Looks like i'm going to get wet on my way back." Greg sympathetically rubbed John's knee slightly. "Wait right here. I'm getting you a blanket. You're staying here tonight." When Greg returned, John glanced at him apologetically. Greg quickly spoke. "Don't you dare apologize! There's nothing you've done wrong. I want you to be ok, John. I care about you." He stroked the former soldier's cheek lightly. "More than you know. Sleep well." It was now that John's tears properly fell. He needed Greg. But for now, he would close his eyes and listen to the rhythm of the falling rain.

"Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain, telling me just what a fool i've been. I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain and let me be alone again." Rhythm of the Rain by The Cascades.

Massive thanks to Bluemisery for being my first reviewer. I hope this chapter was enjoyable and please check out the songs I mention in the story. They are some of my all-time favourites. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Take Us Back.

"It was just a parlour trick, John. I'm not who you thought I was." Sherlock stared down from St Bartholomew's hospital roof at his best friend John, who (he could even see from this distance) had sadness and disbelief in his eyes. "Sherlock, stop it now. I'm coming up there!" Sherlock quickly shot that idea down fast. "No! Stay right there. Don't move." The next few moments simply blurred together for John. His best friend was talking to him, he could hear his voice so clearly and then John saw that Sherlock wasn't the only one on the roof. Another instantly recognizable figure tapped him on the shoulder and took his place. Greg put the phone to his ear, keeping his gaze fixed on John. "I'm sorry, John. This is the only way to make sure you stay safe." John had a river of tears falling from his eyes, hearing the pain in the other man's voice. "Greg, I don't want to be left here without you. You're the only thing I have left. The only person I love. Please don't do this." Greg shuddered, tears escaping him now. "I'll always love you John. In every life. Now and foreve-" Before Greg could complete the sentence, Moriarty took the phone away and merely said, "Toodles Dr Watson. I believe you need a patient to treat. Have fun." In one motion, he pushed Greg harshly over the edge and John was only aware of his own screaming as his love fell to the street below!

"Noooooooooooo!" John bolted upright on the couch, lost in the nightmare. Greg quickly bolted in from the kitchen, only in pyjama bottoms and took John's face into his hands gently. Without saying anything, he simply put his forehead to John's and stroked the other man's hair soothingly. When John's breathing calmed, Greg released his face and stared into those orb-like eyes which held a barely noticeable sheen of tears. Without any words needed, Greg captured John into a much more powerful hug then the previous night, filled with affection and emotion. He spoke quietly. "Do you want to talk about it?" John shook his head against Greg's neck, sniffing lightly. Greg spoke again, to make sure John was calm. "My mother used to have horrible night terrors when I was a boy. She taught me that the only proper way I could keep her calm was to put our foreheads together and gently stroke her hair. It always worked." John pulled back slightly to look at Greg. "I don't mean to be a burden to you. Would you like me to leave?" Greg stared at him sadly. "No. You stay here as long as you want. My place can be a second home to you." John smiled, wiping his eyes. "Thanks Greg. It means a lot. Truly."

After they parted on the couch, Greg put together a tray of tea and biscuits to eat outside. John noticed that Greg popped out a different door, parallel to the front. Curiously he followed. Once he walked through the doorway, his nose picked up the beautiful scent of freshly watered flowers. He entered a covered over terrace with vines hanging down, giving the illusion of walking through a jungle. When he finally reached the balcony, unbeknownst to anyone walking by in the street, each building came together in a perfect square shape with a gigantic garden. Fruits, vegetables with beautiful flowers and greenery obscuring the buildings that were coloured in particular shades of paint, perfectly matching the plants. John stared in wonder at this hidden paradise, breathing in the freshness and peace. At the very centre of the square sat a circular stone fountain where Greg had almost finished setting up the tea and biscuits in a natural field of sunflowers. As John began striding through the stone path that led to Greg, he could now make out statues densely hidden by the greenery. One was of a faun playing the panpipes with his eyes closed. "The Labyrinth of Pan", John thought with a smile. To his right was an angel whose face was covered by its own hands, as if it were weeping. "I feel like I've seen that somewhere before", John thought. As he moved closer to the fountain, John found himself focusing heavily on Greg's remarkable figure. The contour of his bare muscles were highlighted gracefully by the tiny rivulets of water that made him shine like a light under the glow of the sun. Not one for startling people, John cleared his throat and when Greg turned around, his breath was caught. The other man had drops of water dripping from his silver hair, down his chest and slightly dampening the blue and purple pyjama bottoms he still had on. Greg gestured to the garden, sweeping his arms grandly. "It's a gorgeous place, isn't it? I come out here every day to relax and enjoy the peace and quiet. Listen, you can't hear the cars, can you?" John closed his eyes. All that could be heard was the splashing of the water in the fountain.

Once they had sat down amongst the sunflowers, both men drank their tea and talked about almost every topic imaginable. From favourite T.V. shows to what kind of music each loved. Greg was very proud about his kind of music. "I adore a lot of the great guitarists. Ummm, Eric Clapton of course, Jimmy Page, George Harrison. But I do love soft tunes as well. How about you?" John sipped his tea, thinking carefully. "I am a massive fan of folk music. Anything Celtic, like Enya. Pirate or tavern shanties are great too. If I get some time to listen to them, that is." After several minutes in comfortable silence, John finally decided to confide in Greg about the night terror. Greg listened intently, making sure John didn't feel rushed or on display. John discreetly left out him saying he loved Greg in the dream, but relayed everything else stoically. Once John finished, Greg moved slightly closer, looking into John's eyes deeply. "That is never going to happen, John. I'm not going anywhere, because I can tell you really need a friend. Someone to talk to, someone who'll listen..." He leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving John's. Both men licked their lips nervously. Greg tentatively cupped John's cheek into his right hand. The other man leaned into the touch with a contented sigh. "You want someone to love you with all their heart, and who you can give your love to. I think I want that person to be me." With that, he closed the gap between them and kissed John tenderly, unsure whether the moisture rolling down his face was the spray of the fountain or tears that for once were of happiness, not despair.

"I want to stand with you on a mountain, I want to bathe with you in the sea. I want to lay like this forever, until the sky falls down on me." Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden.

Author's note: Wow! This chapter was really emotional. I hope you all enjoyed. Feel free to comment, favourite or follow. Thanks again to Bluemisery for your lovely reviews. Keep having great days and love life. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Two years later

John sat in the restaurant, nervously twirling the small black box that contained the symbol of his commitment to Greg. He continued to play out how their relationship began in his mind, the first kiss by the fountain, the night they finally came together in body and soul reaching levels of ecstasy and pleasure neither had experienced before! Greg would happily quietly sing to John each night to give him better comfort and even more peaceful dreams. His favourite memory, however involved a simple outing at their easy going local cafe. It started just like every other wonderful date until Greg kissed John's hand tenderly and uttered three words very slowly so that they would sink in. "I love you." John stared back wide-eyed, not believing what Greg said. Finally his mouth worked and he breathlessly uttered the same words back with tears threatening to fall. Greg cupped John's cheek and stroked his lips with the thumb before he spoke. "Remember what I said after the fountain? No more sad tears, love." John chuckled. "You may have stopped my sad tears, but you have no control over tears of happiness, Greg Lestrade." With that, they hugged and made their way back home to merely lay together.

Looking up from the ring box and snapped out of his daydream, John stared at his remarkably handsome man walking down the steps toward him. He didn't even try to hide the box. This was happening tonight, no matter what. As Greg got closer, John stood up to pull out his chair and they gave each other a light kiss before sitting down. It took the entirety of dinner and slight prompting from John for Greg to finally notice the box which he recognized as a wedding ring case. "Greg Lestrade, I have tried preparing a speech in my head, some sort of timeless declaration that could be put in a record book, but all I have to say is you brighten every day and you shine like a beacon in the dark, my heart leaps everytime I see you and when you hold me, it's like you're my guardian keeping me safe and secure. I want to feel this forever, until we both die. So, with all that said, Gregory will you be my husband, my love and my heart?" John flicked open the box to reveal a round glittering crystal with a silver ring attached. Greg walked around to where John held the ring and easily slipped it onto his finger, and mouthed yes against his lips. John felt happy tears fall yet again and both men held each other, oblivious to the rest of the world as long as they had one another.

Three months later.

The wedding proved to be incredibly humble and small, with only a handful of people attending. Mrs Hudson, of course. She had been overjoyed for John and Greg, happy that they had found each other. Molly Hooper and her new boyfriend were very happy to come along and several other old friends of John and Greg. They had decided on the song that John heard Greg sing that very first night for their dance. Carnival of Rust by Poets of the Fall. Alone on the dancefloor, they swayed gently, matching one another's movements and motions perfectly to the beat. Once everything quieted down, John noticed a very bright purple box near other gifts that he didn't see before. Opening it, he read a very carefully written letter. "So much for you not being gay, Doctor Watson. Shame your man doesn't have sharp cheekbones like mine. I've almost cut myself on them multiple times. Consider this our little wedding gift to you. Kisses, darling. I.A. and S.H. "You little bastard!" John thought with a grin.

Author's note: I am so sorry for not updating. Australia has been very hot recently and i'm now infatuated with two characters from the game Dragon Age: Inquisition. I hope this was enjoyable to read as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much love to every person who checks it out. :)


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